


Smile, the worst is yet to come.

by dorkpatroller



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, canonverse, no specific route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 22:59:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13374870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkpatroller/pseuds/dorkpatroller
Summary: He laid in bed afterwards for a long while before he decided to get up. Niles did say there would be a next time. Perhaps by the time next time arrives, Laslow will know what those butterflies really mean.





	Smile, the worst is yet to come.

It is a ragged breath but an easy roll of his hips that has Laslow sinking back down onto Niles’s cock. Hot and hard as a rock, Niles moans with the action. Laslow moves slow on purpose this time, but only to draw that sound out of his makeshift lover. Niles teased him like he thought Laslow wouldn’t have the endurance or muscle training for this sort of thing. Maybe because he didn’t know that Laslow has spent half his life training not just as a swordsman, but as a dancer. 

His thighs are bare on either side of Niles’s hips, bruising where they keep bumping into Niles’s pelvic bones, but his thighs hardly shake at all to bounce him up and down in his lap. Yes, Laslow fucks himself easily on Niles and, oh yes, Niles stops making fun of him. Then again, making fun of him might be easier to listen to than the filth that slips off his tongue instead. 

“I have to admit, I like the view,” Niles words come out breathlessly. He’s panting he’s so worked up, but Laslow finds thinking about his rough voice makes him feel flush.  Instead he trails his eyes down to Niles’s chest. Broad shoulders and cocoa skin, he’s quite lovely. Even with that horrid scar stretched across his ribs, he’s got Laslow struggling to focus on anything but what it would feel like to trace the shapes of his body with his fingertips. What is he focusing on? Ah, yes, ignoring the lewd compliments. He pretends not to listen, pretends his cock doesn’t jump with thrilled excitement for every filthy praise Niles offers him. He does a poor job of it--focusing on Niles's voice comes easy. Irony, he supposes. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself. Do you love being filled up by my cock?”

 “Shut up,” Laslow gasps. Of course he loves this. He feels incredible. He’s in his element like this, he’s in charge. He’s the one who sets the pace and he’s the one who ensures that every inward dip of Niles’s cock hits him just right. It feels like waves of heat that travel up his spine only to be met with jolts of pleasure tickling back down. Straight down to his cock that bobs and bounces with every (precise, agonizing) thrust. His cock that betrays him by dribbling a steady trail of precum down onto Niles’s abs in a tiny puddle.

 Heat gathers in red splotches across Laslow’s cheeks and chest. This wasn’t meant to go like this. It’s humiliating, really, but this simply isn’t what he imagined losing his virginity would be like. This was supposed to be a sweet young maiden beneath him, pushing her fingers through his hair and wrapping her legs snugly around his hips. It was never supposed to be a man, and certainly not supposed to be _this_ man.

 That isn’t to say Niles doesn’t have all the qualities of a handsome man. Settled under Laslow like this, he’s on display. Laslow ignores his wicked tongue still, but he crumbles to temptation and helplessly and spreads his palm over his chest. Over his nipple, up towards his collar. Niles reaches up and grips Laslow around his wrist before his hand can wander up further, edging dangerously close to his bobbing throat. His grip is firm when Laslow tests it. A silent, polite request to stop that. Laslow’s eyes flick over to his, and he bites his lip while Niles pulls his hand forward to kiss his knuckles. His heart feels like pinpricks. Sure enough Laslow rolls his hips forward, takes Niles deeper than before, and Niles’s lips pull into a tight smile against Laslow’s hand. 

 Fluidly he moves both of his hands back to Laslow’s hips. They’ve been settled there this whole time, waiting. It’s as if it’s taking every ounce of his self-control to play nice and to let Laslow be in control of this. His grip is bruising but Laslow finds himself wanting more. The idea that his fingerprints will be left behind in his skin come morning is an appealing one.

(Laslow isn’t sure why and he doesn’t want to stop and question it.)

 More startling than the tightening of his grip, Niles begins to pull Laslow down. He holds him in place and begins to thrust upwards into him instead of letting Laslow rut down. It effectively knocks the wind out of him. "Niles--a-ah!" Laslow’s breath leaves him in a wobbly moan with the sudden change of pace. He’s not in control at all anymore. It’s dizzying in the best way. He finds that he _wants_ to pass this torch to Niles. He wants to let him fuck him just as senseless as he’s promised to an hour before, when his words were scented with raspberry wine.

Maybe, if he closes his eyes, Laslow can pretend like he’s not startled by the wildfire overtaking his body. He can pretend that his needs are normal, and like he isn’t at all nervous about his sudden desire to be shattered (and then delicately pieced back together again) by Niles. Niles, the man with a silky-smooth voice but lips tipped with poison when he wants them to be. 

Oh, but not right now. Right now, they’re just lips—parted with pleasure and chapped from the cool evening air, and Laslow is just a man with needs. He tumbles forward. He supports himself up on his arms best he can but he lays over Niles so he can feel the heat coming off his body. Radiating up from his chest, almost as if he can feel the beating of his heart.

Laslow’s bangs tickle his face first, that’s what makes Niles snap open his eye. Was he so focused he needed to close it? A shame because it's, admittedly, a lovely shade to look at. He looks startled for a moment, and didn't he know how close Laslow was to him? But then Laslow leans down and kisses the corner of his mouth. Niles flinches back into the pillows. Laslow doesn't have time to be offended.

“If you mean to have my first time, I think you owe it to me to grant me my first kiss as well,” Laslow mutters. Niles closes his eye again and a soft hum rumbles up from his throat.

 “If you insist,” he says. He slips one of his hands away from Inigo’s hips and instead into his hair. He grabs a fist full of it and it almost hurts, but mixed with the fullness he feels right now, it mingles with pleasure. Laslow moans and Niles takes that as his opportunity to dip his tongue into his mouth.

It's not quite what he expected but, arguably, none of this is. With that in mind Laslow opens his mouth a touch wider and he moans. Moans because it’s just an added sparkle of heat and indulgence. He knows he dreamed his first time would go differently, but even so he never has been treated like this before. Especially not by Niles. Here he is granting him any request, making him writhe and squirm and consider begging for more. It seems like his build up takes forever but also hits him out of nowhere. Everything begins to feel tight and urgent. “Ah-” He grips at the sheets under him so tight his arms start to shake. He pulls his kiss-swollen lips up and away from Niles. Below him, Niles licks his own.

 “Gonna cum for me then?” He slows his hips down and for a moment Laslow forgets how to breathe. What if he stops? But wait—there’s nothing saying that _he_ must stop. Laslow shifts his weight back onto his knees and picks up where he left off. Bouncing his hips up and down to a pace that is selfish. A pace that meets his needs but doesn’t give a damn if Niles cums or not.

“Not for you,” Laslow corrects. He’s going to cum, but for himself. All of this is for himself, and no one else. He braces his hand on Niles’s chest. He splays out his fingers and he thinks he can feel the drum of his heart like that. Fancy that, Niles has a heart after all.

 It doesn’t take much longer. A few more jagged thrusts before Laslow reduces himself to moans and whimpers. He’s got to keep going, got to keep rolling his hips forward. Grinding now, not even bothering to lift himself. He’s just trying to push Niles’s cock inside of him deeper and deeper until he cums and it’s _dizzying_.

 Despite bracing himself on Niles’s chest his arm still gives out and he falls forward over him. He curls in on himself and his vision is blurred and fuzzy while he pants against Niles’s shoulder. “Oh, gods,” He moans in the aftermath of it all. Damn near whines, really, and curls his fingers hard into Niles’s shoulder to ground. Or he tries, but Niles groans loud and all it does is send another surge of heat pulsing through Laslow’s cock.

 Niles holds on to Laslow’s hips and _drags him_. He forces him up and down, lifts him when he’s limp, and _uses_ him for a few more good thrusts until his voice cracks and Laslow knows he's cumming. He finds then that it’s not Niles’s heartbeat that’s out of place, but the racing of his own. The release of a pent-up orgasm, a long standing sexual desire… that’s one thing. The butterflies that flutter through his lungs when he thinks about bringing Niles pleasure… those are something wildly different and new. His heart threatens to beat clear out of his chest when Niles rests his hand warm and heavy on the back of his head.

 There’s silence. Long silence while Laslow tries to understand what in the world shifted his mindset from harmless pleasure into something more sinister. Niles catches his breath and eventually shoves on Laslow’s sweaty thigh. Lightly, but enough that Laslow understands. He lifts his leg over Niles and falls off of him and onto his bed.

 Niles reaches out and uses the sheets to wipe smeared cum off his waist. He leaves Laslow as a mess, though, doesn't offer to help and Laslow doesn't ask. Instead he closes his eyes briefly. He doesn’t mind, he'll have to bathe; he’s covered in his own cum and Niles’s alike. He’s about to make a comment, trying to think up something sly and maybe even (dare he say it?) flirty. That’s when the bed shifts and he notices Niles pulling on his trousers.

 "It’s been fun,” He begins, “but it’s time for me to run along I think.”

 Laslow tries to ignore the way his heart seizes. The butterflies halt and die in his chest, all turning into a weight that settles heavy in his gut. “Of… of course.”

 Niles turns and looks back at Laslow while he’s pulling his shirt over his head. Maybe he can hear the waver in his voice. Maybe he cares? He probably doesn’t. He combs his fingers through his messy hair. “Until next time,” He says, and then he’s gone. Just like that. He’s out the door and Laslow is left alone with a vast array of confusing feelings to sort through, and the only thing he has to cling to is that Niles said there will be a next time.

There will be a next time.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a long time coming and half done for a LONG time in my files. I hope you guys enjoy. I'm finally hoping to start writing again, now that I'm settled into the new year. See you next fic. :)


End file.
